Crash Into Me
by DBirdie17
Summary: (Richonne) Rick plans a romantic date night for Michonne with a little help from some friends. Inspired by Dave Matthew's song, Crash Into Me, for its romantic, voyeuristic undertones. Written for the Richonne Exchange on Tumblr.


Rick made his way over to the Rhee household, taking the scenic route to avoid being seen from the main tower. Although Daryl had agreed to pick up some of the slack for him tonight, Rick still had a lot of things to take care of before Michonne would be home from watch duty, and Judith wasn't making it any easier for him. She had forgone her usual nap earlier in the day, opting instead to take advantage of Carl's weakness for his sister's laughter, and was obviously reaching her limit. Between her constant squirming and the subsequent odor emanating from her diaper, Rick questioned whether he was the victim of a toddler sabotage plot, but he kept going, determined for things to go as planned without a hitch.

When Maggie opened the door, he greeted her smiling face with a peck on the cheek, happy to see her relaxed and rested. He then glanced down the hall, relieved to see Carl and Enid sitting on opposite ends of the couch in the living room, reading their comic books, apparently oblivious to his presence.

"I come bearing foul-smelling gifts, " joked Rick as he handed his stinky, cranky daughter over to Maggie, who nevertheless, wrapped the little girl in her arms with zeal. "Are you guys sure you're still up for this?"

Maggie stared then rolled her eyes at Rick, pretending to take offense to the question. "Would you stop it already?" she said, taking the overnight bag from his shoulder, then setting Judith down on the soft ottoman in the foyer for a diaper change. "We've got this. No worries. We love watching her, and besides, it's good practice," she smiled, subconsciously placing one hand on her ever-so-slightly rounded belly.

Rick handed her some wash cloths and nodded in appreciation, knowing he was leaving his daughter in capable hands. "Oh, I'm not worried about Judes," he smirked, turning his gaze towards the living room.

Maggie followed his glare with her own, knowingly looked back at Rick, then stood up to pull him away from view of the teens. "Trust us. Glenn and I have the whole evening planned out." She then held up her three fingers, mimicking the Girl Scout pledge, and said, "Tonight, in this house, I promise that there will only be good, clean, wholesome fun."

Rick laughed, shook his head, and momentarily looked down at his shuffling feet. Before he could respond, Maggie put her hand on his shoulder, leaned in to his ear , and whispered surreptitiously, "I'm guessing you won't be making the same promise later tonight."

Caught off guard but highly amused, Rick smiled, his face flush with both embarrassment and the thoughts of his own evening plans. Without making direct eye contact, he walked passed her, tilted his head, and mumbled rather confidently, "Nope," more to himself than her. As he began to make his way down the hallway, Carl and Enid emerged from the other room happy to see him and the freshly clean toddler. Enid scooped her up and planted a kiss on her forehead, visibly excited to help babysit for the evening.

"Hey Dad," said Carlg, eagerly showing Rick his progress with his comic. "Guess what? You know how it's been getting easier for me to read every day? Well today it didn't even hurt to focus." Rick was grateful for Denise's insistence that Carl work on his physical therapy multiples times everyday, and for the progress he had made with her. Seeing him enjoy comics , or frankly anything, calmed his anxiety, somewhat, but he knew his son was still dealing with the traumatic events that resulted in his injury, and he would never stop worrying about him.

Rick put his hand on his son's shoulder and squeezed, pleased to hear the sense of hope return to Carl's voice. "Good. Michonne will be happy to hear it. You two can finally finish that debate about who's more powerful, Spiderman or the werewolf."

"It's Wolf-Man, Dad, but nice try."

"Hey, he was pretty close," Enid chimed in, bouncing Judith up and down, much to the toddler's delight.

"Yeah, thanks for that, Enid," smiled Rick, happy to see the usually sullen teen lightening up. "Listen, you guys be good and help Glenn and Maggie with Judith, ok?

"We will," they both replied in unison, right before Enid punched Carl in the arm. "Jinx! You owe me a soda."

"Oww!" Carl called out, rubbing his arm and pretending it hurt. Enid pouted but was fully aware that his over dramatic response was all for show. Carl responded in kind and teased, "Good luck getting that soda."

Maggie noticed Rick glancing at his watch, so she stepped in between them and ordered, "Ok, you two. I'm starving, Glenn'll be home soon, and you promised to help me with dinner."

"Ok, ok. We get the message." Carl deadpanned, seeing his father grow more nervous by the minute. "Bye, Dad," he offered, the slight hint of awkwardness in his tone undetected by His father. Enid then held up Judith's hand and waved for her, saying, "Bye, bye" before Maggie shooed them into the kitchen. Peering over her shoulder, she made the same gesture towards Rick, amused by his obvious preoccupation with other matters.

"Get going already. Just relax and have fun," she winked, placing emphasis on the last word. "Lots of it!" 

* * *

Rick rummaged through his dresser drawers, obliterating Michonne's methodical system of organization. _Shit, where the hell did I hide the chocolate?,_ he grilled himself, trying in futility to remember. He could kick himself; the luck he and Daryl had on their last supply run had been the whole impetus for this evening's plans. Not only did they find essentials like canned goods and diapers, but a few welcomed luxuries as well. As always, everything was brought to the pantry for inventory and storage, but Daryl had silently agreed to turn a blind eye to Rick's pocketing a few items; a couple bottles of red wine, a chocolate bar, and some other non-essentials.

"God damn it," Rick muttered as he searched the last possible place he could think of, coming up empty-handed once more. After checking his watch for what seemed like the hundredth time, he resigned himself to the fact that they'd have to make due with the small bag of stale M&M's in the cupboard.

Just then, he heard a knock at the back porch door and hurried to answer it, but Carol was already in the kitchen, placing the casserole on the counter with detailed instructions taped to the covering. Not that there was much for Rick to do besides set the correct oven temperature and remove the foil towards the end, but she figured it was the least she could do.

"Hey," he called, grateful for a keen female eye to give the place, and him, a once over and offer all the valuable critique she could. But before he could solicit an opinion, she beat him to the punch.

"Well don't you look dapper in your new clothes?," she praised, greeting him with a bright smile and a peck on the cheek. She then added facetiously, "You got something going on tonight?" before straightening his collar.

He responded with a smirk and a heavy sigh, one that served to expose his jitters more so than as a reaction to her banter.

"Oh, Rick. Relax, sweetheart," she encouraged. "The place looks great. You look great. You've got a delicious meal ready to go, and Michonne is going to love all of it."

"Yeah," he nodded, "but I haven't done this since…" He paused, trying to not only remember the year, but the little details; _Where did he and Lori go? What did they do? Did they have a good time?_ He had trouble answering any of them. "Forever."

These days, he could take out a horde of walkers with relative ease, but going on a date? That particular skill was so far removed from his present comfort zone, he wasn't even sure what one would look like now, but he was trying. All he knew was that he wanted to make Michonne happy, each and every possible way he could, and tonight he was going to cover all the bases, so to speak. Her happiness was his, and he never wanted to stop feeling it.

"Honey, it's just like riding a bicycle."

* * *

Michonne stood atop the watch point, her gaze following the trajectory of a lone cardinal flittering from tree to tree, clearly on a mission. She wondered if this new normal even affected the bird at all, or if it was oblivious to the horror around it. It wasn't lost on her that the natural world was and had always been a brutal one, and that perhaps the turn was nature's way of setting humans back in their place.

As she continued her watch, the quiet inactivity usually a much welcomed reprieve from the occasional madness, today she found herself restless and impatient. All she wanted to do was go home and be with Rick, but she knew he would be leaving for work shortly after she'd arrive, and that pissed her off.

She heard the creaking of wood just before Abe's unmistakable carrot-top emerged from the top of the ladder. "Hey," she exclaimed, detecting his presence a little too late for her liking.

"Evening," he replied, dusting himself off and grabbing the gun down from his back. "You are over like rover caught in a dry heat."

Normally she would have mulled over that greeting, but today she wasn't in the mood to decipher his jargon. "Am I supposed to know what that means?"

"It means get that keister of yours down there and go home. Your shift's done."

"You may want a new one," she replied, pointing at the watch on Abe's wrist. "I still have another hour."

Abe stood there motionless , his arms resting on the gun slung across his shoulders, silently waiting for Michonne to leave. Her hands were now on her hips, and she stared back at him, mildly amused by his arrogance.

"What's the deal?" she queried, her brows furrowed in suspicion.

"My ass is itching to start scratching, you know what I mean?" he asked, turning his palms up off his rifle as if to ask, _What don't you understand?_

"No, not really," she mused, shaking her head, failing to suppress an amused grin. "But, then again, I rarely do."

"Stop looking this gift horse in its mighty fine kisser, already, and get gone," he commanded with a huge smile on his face.

"Suit yourself," she replied nonchalantly, trying to suppress not only her growing suspicion, but also her glee that she'd have at least a little time with Rick. "It's all yours, " she offered, turning towards him as she reached the ladder. "Good night."

"Right back at ya," he said, peering down at her as she began her descent, his grin getting wider with each step. "Good night, indeed."

* * *

Rick ran through the checklist in his mind and was quite certain that he'd completed every item on it. If Abe came through, and he had every reason to believe that he would, then Michonne would arrive any minute, and the only task left was to the light the small array of candles he had dispersed throughout the room.

Just as he was lighting the last one, he heard the door open and turned to see Michonne enter the dimly lit abode, her body in perfect silhouette. His covetous lips curved upward fervidly, as he watched her eyes widen with surprise; her bright smile illuminating the room far more than the flickering flames dancing around them. She took a few more steps into their home, her weary legs suddenly eager to make their way over to the delicious man standing before her.

"So I have you to thank for getting me home early, huh?" she questioned him coyly, gleaming with delight. Michonne scanned the room, staggered by the fact that he had planned all of this just for her, but quickly returned her gaze to her man. She was impressed, although not surprised, by Rick's proficiency for romance, and she couldn't help but stand there hypnotized, admiring his lean, muscular form, accentuated by what appeared to be new clothes and the warm glow of the candles. "What are you up to?"

"Why don't you put down your weapon, come here, and find out, " he suggested before biting his lower lip in anticipation.

"Hmm. I don't know. I may need it," she said, closing the gap between them, keeping her eyes locked with his. She hooked her fingers over his belt, pulling at it slightly. "'Cause you're killing me right now, Grimes."

His mouth turned up in a devilish grin, a look of mischief combined with lust in his eyes. "Good."

Michonne beamed, completely and irrevocably taken by this man. She found him fascinating, infuriatingly handsome, and sexy as hell.

"Hi," he whispered, bringing his forehead to hers.

"Hi," she whispered back, as she closed her eyes, paralyzed by the intensity of Rick's focused attention. They stood there for a few moments with their arms locked around each other, neither willing to let go of the other.

Finally, after opening her eyes and giving his whole body a once-over, Michonne whispered, "Mmm. These look good on you," as her hands tugged on the rim of his pants, then glided upward, smoothing over his crisp plaid shirt. "Too bad I'm going to have to take them off later."

Rick said nothing, but pursed his lips then turned them upward in that sexy smirk of his that always drove Michonne wild. "So what's the special occasion?" she asked.

He pulled her in even closer still, pure adoration emanating from his eyes. "The occasion is that it's just you and me," he explained, inhaling deeply. "No worries," he breathed before kissing her forehead. "No responsibilities," he sighed before kissing her cheek.

"No kids?" she questioned suggestively, her lips swollen with desire.

"Exactly," he whispered, his breath washing over them before his own lips delicately savored hers and the thought of what was to come. "Consider this our first official date."

* * *

Michonne rested her head back, surrounded by the warmth of the water, and speculated on Rick's plans for the rest of their evening. _So far, so good, Grimes_ , she thought. Even if he had drawn her this bath to buy himself some time, she didn't care. It smelled and felt divine and her muscles needed to recoup considering they were going to get another workout later.

Although she had wanted him to join her, she appreciated his restraint. The solitude afforded her time to reassemble all the emotions that had scattered from her body the moment she walked in the door. Plus, it allowed her to take care of any last minute maintenance issues. She knew Rick wouldn't mind either way, but she cared, and she wanted to be as smooth and sexy for him as possible.

When it dawned on her that she could no longer stand to be separated from him, Michonne emerged from the water, and draped herself in her towel. Even though she had twisted her locks up, some of the ends had fallen in, so she patted them dry along with the rest of her body.

Just as she was deliberating her limited clothing options, she opened the door to find a simple, but pretty white dress laid out on the bed. Beaming from ear to ear, she rushed towards it, and spied the little note Rick had left for her.

 _I need to see this on you. Don't keep me waiting too long._

Michonne found herself extremely turned on by the fact that even in his absence, in writing, Rick took charge. He was all man, all alpha, and yet, even though she was no shrinking violet or damsel, he wasn't the least bit threatened by her strength. He loved her all the more for it and she knew it.

Not wishing to disappoint him, she found the perfect undergarments, checked herself in the mirror for any last minute grooming needs, and eagerly slipped on the dress. It was short with thin straps, and flowy on the bottom, but on her body, with her voluptuous curves, it was much sexier than it was meant to be. She was momentarily taken aback by the vision of herself looking much like the way she often did before the world changed. Yet this time she felt different. Even though she had loved Mike in her own way, and that no one could ever replace the hole left by her son, Andre, she knew that this love, the one she unequivocally shared with Rick and his children, would carry her through to the end of days.

She needed to be with him, _Now,_ she thought, but wanted to make sure she looked as alluring for him as she could. She fastened her locks in a purposefully tousled updo, so that he could get an unrestricted view of her face, then added the finishing touch of red lipstick she and Sasha had snagged on their last run. She was having way too much fun, she realized, and if not for the fact that Rick was on the other side of the door, she could have stayed in front of the mirror all night. _He's not going to know what hit him,_ she hoped, admiring herself one last time before taking one deep breath and then another.

* * *

Rick checked on the casserole for the sixth time in the past twenty minutes, and was certain that it was as ready as he was. He was impatient with anticipation, but glad that Michonne was taking her time. He enjoyed daydreaming about all the things she was doing to get ready, which morphed into thoughts of all the things they would do to each other later on. While opening a bottle of wine, he could hear the faint sound of footsteps, so he turned around, only to find Michonne standing a few feet away, the heat that was emanating from her body blazing hotter than the oven.

Neither of them said a word, but Michonne knew from the way that Rick was looking at her that she had hit the mark; he most definitely did not know what hit him. He swallowed loudly, unable to control his mouth from watering, and just remained there, standing frozen in time and space. Only his eyes moved, as they sized up every curve pushing its way against the fabric of the dress, the white a bold contrast highlighting her exquisite ebony complexion.

Her legs were on full display, which was Rick's intention when he chose that dress, and he couldn't help but wonder if the rest of her was as smooth as they were. He could tell from Michonne's expression that she knew what he was thinking, and the slight hint of self-consciousness that had crept in with her ever-present confidence only turned him on more.

Finally he spoke, but not before sidling up to her and running his hands along the contours of her hips. "You're stunning," he avered, thrilled by the fact that this woman was all his for the taking tonight.

Michonne admired his brazenness, with all sorts of lustful thoughts starting to race through her mind, and she found herself consciously flirting for the first time in years, an effortless exercise considering who was on the receiving end. Rick was getting noticeably worked up and handsy, so she took a step back away from him, wagged her finger, and playfully reprimanded him. "Uh, uh, uh," she warned, tickled to see that delectable pout of his make an appearance. She loved having that effect on him. "No dessert until after dinner."

* * *

Rick had never been much of a wine connoisseur, usually opting for the refreshing, uncomplicated taste of a cold beer instead, but he was familiar enough to know that this bottle of Pinot Noir was of good quality. It was multifaceted and layered with the perfect hint of sweetness. At least that's what he told himself; not dissimilar to the knockout sitting next to him with her hand on his thigh.

They were already on their second glass before they commenced with their meal, their hunger for each other far surpassing their literal one. Michonne procured a bite-sized portion on her fork, justifiably apprehensive of his presumed culinary skills, he surmised. She, however, was being overly meticulous, careful not to spatter any sauce on her immaculate dress.

"Mmm. Did you actually make this?" she quizzed him, savoring the taste while trying to gauge his response. The sheen of culpability transcribed across his face coupled with the shift in his gaze, weren't doing anything to help his case. "Or are you trying to pull a fast one on me?"

"Ugh. Ok, confession time." There was no point in carrying on the ruse. He didn't know what he was thinking, as he never could put anything past her anyway. "Carol brought this over," he admitted sheepishly, "but believe me, you would not have enjoyed the alternative."

"So, is EVERYONE in on this little surprise?" Michonne asked somewhat nervously, her fingers tracing her eyebrow to hide her embarrassment. Rick smiled, surprised by the fact that she seemed more concerned by his apparent lack of discretion than his little white lie by omission. As he brushed her hand aside, he silently promised himself to tease her more often since he was absolutely smitten with her rare flashes of timidity.

"Would it bother you if they were?" he probed, playfully baiting her into admitting her embarrassment.

"No," she avowed, depriving him of the satisfaction. "I'm just not used to this much attention."

"Well, get used to it," he advised. "And no, not everyone knows, although come to think of it, they probably do now. I needed all the help I could get."

"For the record, I think you're doing just fine here on your own," she offered, holding up her glass in recognition before taking another sip.

* * *

After somewhat expeditiously and prematurely ending their dinner, Rick stood up, unsure if it was the wine or something else that caused the rush of blood to his head. He impulsively bent over to kiss Michonne before taking both glasses in his hands and motioning for her to follow him as he sauntered over to the couch. She stayed back at first, taking great pleasure in the sight of those sexy bow legs and that scrumptious ass making their way across the room, but when he turned to see her so far away from him, he sulked, luring her in with that impossibly adorable face of his.

Rick took a spot on the couch then invited Michonne to sit down on the pillows that he placed in front of him on the floor. With his legs straddling her body, he inched his way toward the end of the cushion and began to press his fingers into her shoulders, lightly at first. He continued kneading her muscles for a while, happy to pamper her and indulge her request to increase the pressure, but his own urges were surfacing and he knew he wouldn't be able to control himself much longer.

"Wait right here," he directed, his voice soft but with a hint of rasp. Michonne obliged him, giggling at the prospect of Rick surprising her yet again. He walked up to the cd bin, pretending to rifle through them as if he hadn't already had one picked out. It was an odd assortment of music, to be sure, but after spending an hour the previous night scrutinizing each one, he made his selection. When his fingers found the one, he was both relieved and embarrassed to see the chocolate bar wedged next to it. _Ahh, of course, you idiot!,_ he scolded himself, but made quick work of putting the cd into the player and unwrapping the treat. As he selected song number three and pressed play, he quietly broke a few squares from the bar with his other hand, turned around, and said, "Close your eyes."

Rick approached her, the guitar chords filling the air, and grabbed her hand, pulling her up to him. With their bodies mere inches apart, the heat from them practically melting any resolve they had left, he told Michonne to open her mouth. Intrigued by the request, she once again granted him the one thing she refused to give to any other; her submission. As her taste buds registered the first hint of the velvety, rich goodness on her tongue, Michonne opened her eyes to see Rick, grinning like a school boy, unabashedly pleased with himself.

Though she savored every ounce of the thin chocolate square, its sweetness paled in comparison to that of the man to whom she laid claim. "Mmmmm," was all she could manage to say, while the song lyrics began to waft over them.

 _Sweet like candy to my soul_

 _Sweet you rock_

 _And sweet you roll_

 _Lost for you_

 _I'm so lost for you_

Rick put his hands on Michonne's slight waist, then slid them around to her lower back, pulling her in to erase what little space there was between them. Her hands rested on his taut chest before making their way up to and around his neck, his loose curls irresistible to her. "Dance with me," he once again directed, knowing she was utterly incapable of denying his request. Her obvious desire for him turned him on even more so than his already blatant need for her. While she rested her head on his chest, he lowered his slightly, inhaling the scent of her hair as they slowly and silently swayed along with the music.

 _I'm bare boned and crazy for you_

 _When you come crash into me, baby_

Their breaths grew measured and aligned; their damaged hearts pulsing in harmony, healing each other. The world beyond the room ceased to exist. Neither thought they would feel anything close to this again, and yet, here they were, revelling in the thought of consuming the other. As the song continued to guide their bodies in unison, Rick brought his hand under Michonne's chin and lifted it up, tilting her head slightly and brushing away her stray locks so that his lips could gain access to her ear. He paused, waiting for the lyrics to catch up to his rapidly growing appetite, and then mouthed along with the song as softly but as assuredly as he could,

" _Hike up your skirt a little more and show the world to me._ "

His hands quickly glided down along her sides, tracing her sensuous curves, until they reached the hem of her dress. Pulling back up on it so that his fingers could graze her perfect ass, his face pressed against hers, he implored her again, this time audibly, and with urgency.

" _Hike up your skirt a little more and show your world to me._ "

Michonne moaned lustily, uncontrollably; the confident, forceful tone of his voice sending her body reeling with need. While his hands continued their exploration, his lips began their own expedition, savoring the taste of her gorgeous neck. Her hands slunk behind his neck, once again drawn to those fetching locks of his, before her hunger for his luscious mouth overtook her. She brought his face up to meet hers so that their eyes locked, an unspoken promise of complete surrender, mere seconds before they began to devour each other.

Hands discovered, tongues probed, lips consumed, and bodies ached while the music swelled in crescendo, although, neither Rick or Michonne were aware of anything but their insatiable thirst.

 _Crash into me..._

"Do you have any idea what you do to me?" Rick asked, breathless; unrelenting. He neither expected nor sought an answer, unwilling to relinquish even a moment of complete control.

Suddenly annoyed by the barrier between them, he grabbed her dress and pulled it off, making no attempt to hide his admiration for the revealing lingerie set she had apparently been saving for a night like this. He then slid his hands down along her back and cupped her round, taut ass, lifting her up to him. She wrapped her smooth legs around his waist, seconds before he brought her back down to the couch, their bodies in perfect alignment.

 _Crash into me…_

Making quick work of unbuttoning and removing his shirt, Michonne ran her fingers along the back of his shoulders, tracing the lines of the long, lean muscles in his upper arms; one of many of his features that completely wrecked her. As Rick deftly maneuvered his tongue along her supple curves, he grunted her name, the sound of his voice igniting her flesh beyond its threshold. Unable to take a full breath, she whispered his name back; a declaration of the undeniable love she felt for him.

Rick lifted his head, peered into her luminous eyes, and smiled that same smile he wore on the night when they both realized what their bodies had been attempting to tell them all along. She reciprocated, transfixed by his baby blues the way she always was, but this time she saw something new in them; an invitation to their future. To be together. To be a family. For as long as this new world would allow. _Yes_ , she silently accepted. _I'm yours. You're mine._

They held their gaze until Michonne started to giggle, overcome with thoughts of what Rick was about to do to her. Reading her mind, his smile grew lascivious, and his primal instincts took control once more. His mouth commenced its exploration of hers, aching to satisfy his ravenous appetite. She knew she only had fleeting access to his lips before they started working their magic elsewhere, so she pulled them in for another taste and whispered,

" _Crash into me.._."


End file.
